Friend's Mother's Feet

Friend's Mother's Feet

I'm curious as to whether anyone has been able to induldge in a spot of footplay with any of their friend's mothers? To me, this is a sort of 'Holy Grail' of feet, it's something you shouldn't really do, an off-limits area, which makes it all the better when it happens. I've been able to do so three times in my life, with two women in childhood and another in recent years (five years ago this year).

Here's the first one; I was aged 12, and every Saturday would visit a friend's house to watch 80s WWF wrestling. His mum was also a fan, and would watch it with us. Her name was Tina, and she was about 32. She was quite slim, spiky brown hair, brown eyes, and would always wear sandal type shoes and tan or white tights (although she always referred to them as 'stockings', so maybe they were stockings!). She was rarely shoeless in the house, but as she was showing off a lot of foot anyway it didn't matter!

One night my friend and I decided to play 'blind man's bluff', with my friend being blindfolded and trying to find us. As a joke I'd decided to put loads of obstacles in his way, such as cushions, chairs etc. I asked Tina if she had any ideas for obstacles (in all innocence, honest!) and amongst other things, she came up with shoes....hmmm.

Keeping my voice as calm as possible, I wholeheartily agreed! 'Great idea, Tina!! Here, may I...?' and with that, moved over to where she sat and reached down to take her shoes off. As she was in sandals, they were very easy to take off, but I made sure to savour the moment. I sat down in front of her and lifted her tan stocking leg toward me. She was fine with this, despite wearing a skirt, and I placed my hand around her heel in an attempt to get some 'leverage' (although none was necessary), and slowly pulled off her shoe, all the while keeping a grip on her stocking heel. I did the same to the other one, and there she sat, shoeless and in stocking feet, my friend's cool mum!! I made sure to put the shoes way on the other side of the room, so that there was no way she could get them back on. My heart was beating, but I made sure to get on with the game of blind man's bluff, all the while stealing glances at Tina's stocking feet. They were quite big, I'd estimate about size 5 or 6, and barely moved while the game of blind man's bluff went on, no toe wiggling or flexing. Still, I was happy to have her shoeless!

The game was eventually over, and myself and my friend set about putting the place back to normal. I made a beeline for Tina's shoes, but my friend grabbed one before me so we both went to place them back on her feet. She lifted her legs so her feet were sticking outward, and we placed her shoes back on her feet...albeit left on right, right on left! Tina let out a semi-frustrated sigh, and shook them off, and asked us to do it properly. As we put them on she asked us to be careful of her feet. I fully intended to do it as slowly as possible, maybe 'accidentally' touching sole or instep as I returned her shoe, but the fact she asked us to be careful raised my interest.

'Be careful? Why, are your feet ticklish?' I asked innocently

'Erm...yes', she said sheepishly, maybe knowing what was coming next.

'Like this?', and with that, I quickly attacked her stocking sole! She flinched, shot me a dirty look, but had a small smile on her face, so I knew I'd hit paydirt. For the next few years after that, I would get to mess about with her feet several times over. It became somewhat of a tradition for her son and I to have wrestling matches after watching WWF, and this later morphed into me having wrestling matches with Tina!!

I think I suggested it one day, and she was quite willing. She was in her sandal type shoes, so before we did anything I insisted that they came off, and slowly removed them. She was in white tights on this occassion, and was doing a crossword. I didn't mind this as it meant I could stare at her feet for longer! We eventually began to wrestle, and I'd often go for leglocks and things to be near her feet. I'd also let her take me down and pin me, preferably underfoot! These matches became a regular thing for us over the years from when I was about 12 to 15 years old, and would follow a set pattern. I'd always say something along the lines of 'Tina, can I take your shoes off and wrestle you?' She'd often say something like 'Well...if you must', and so I'd take slowly ease her shoes off, and wait until she was ready. I never forced it, and not only would she never complain about me taking her shoes off, but she'd always give me the match. I remember once that she was on her knees, and I was wrapped around her. This allowed me perfect access to her stocking feet, and I went nuts tickling them until she submitted, which didn't take long!

So I'd stop, as she'd submitted. Then I'd tickle her feet some more....

I remember that at times she'd complain that she was slipping around in stocking feet, and despite my protests (I prefer stocking feet, and said that as I was in socks it was equal!) she did it barefoot (and in a leotard!). I think it may have been just us alone in the house, as I know my friend wasn't nearby. We ended up in some sort of leglock or another, and her bare foot was near my hand. I reached out to tickle it, and got no response. She said that she could sometimes turn her ticklishness on and off, so I did it again and got no reaction, other than an awkward silence...!

Another time, when I was wrestling my friend I was on the floor directly underneath her stocking foot (she was shoeless, so I'd probably taken them off earlier). My friend had me in a hold of some sort, but I was happy lying there, gazing up at her tan stocking sole, pretending to try and escape but not putting up any resistence. I'd use her foot to try and escape the hold, using it for 'leverage' to pull myself up, and she never complained once as my hands clasped her feet and toes.

In fact, I remember one time I was in the house alone with her (I was about 14) after my friend had gone out. It just the two of us watching TV, with me sitting next to her. It felt odd being there without my friend, but I went with it. As we sat there she curled her stocking feet up onto the sofa and had her toes just gently touching my thighs!!! Whether she knew what she was doing or not I don't know, but, my God, I was in wonderland!!!

My friend and I split up when I was about 15 or so, which was a shame as there was no doubt more foot play available. However, I don't think I can complain about my experiences with Tina...!

During my mid teens I stayed at my friend's house for the week end, his mum was so young looking and attractive, I really fancied her from the moment I
walked into their house. She was wearing a pair of flat mules on her gorgeous looking slim feet, and I just couldn't take my eyes off her sexy looking
toes.

That evening while my friend's mum was taking a bath, I sketched a picture of a sailing boat for my friend's young sister to colour with her
crayons. My friend's mum saw my picture when she came back downstairs, she asked me if I liked painting? I had thoughts of her asking me to paint the
kitchen or something similar. When she reached into her vanity case to bring out a small bottle of red nail polish I almost had an heart attack when she asked
me to paint her toe nails!!

Thrilled, excited and very aroused, were a few of the sensations I was going through, while she slipped a pink plastic thing between her toes and placed her
gorgeous bare feet on my thigh. My penis never stopped throbbing as I gave my friend's mum the best toe nail paint job ever. I had to excuse myself and go
to the bathroom for some much needed urgent hand relief, I found a pair of my friend's mum's black nylons in the laundry basket and after, no more than
two quick rubs, my balls erupted a great torrent of semen inside the toe end of her black nylons.

I guess that so far in my lifetime I've been lucky enough to witness several true dominating foot
experiences. As I got older I must admit that I manipulated alot of situations into happening, but as a younger person, some of these things fell into my lap,
or me at their feet. It is because of these fortunate experiences, that my interest has been intensified to where I'm still somewhat over powered by their
memories. It probably seems weird that I actually viewed these things, but I can't really explain why, maybe I was just lucky or cursed because of these
events. This story takes place at my friend Bruce's home when we're both about 17. On one hand we're somewhat men, we both had jobs and went to
school, and took care of younger siblings. On the other hand we were both very immature and loved horseplay and messing around. So us two idiots are playing
tackle nerf basketball in his room on his thick shag carpet. A game we invented where you either slam dunked the basketball in the little plastic basket, or
you got slammed by the other player trying to get there, and wound up smashed on the floor. Bruce's mom not amused with the violence and noise of this
game, comes up to the room and tells us to stop. Dianne the mother of Bruce is the most attractive of all my friends mother's and the youngest at 41 back
then. She is 5'7 short blonde hair, blue eyes and size 8 high arched bare feet with bright red toenails. Her big toenails were long and protruded slightly
over her toes, but not her other nails, they were normal length. We stop for a moment and she leaves. After 10 minutes we're bored again, so Bruce just
tackles me again, I thump, even on shag carpeting, and here comes Dianne again. Bruce if you don't stop I'll give you the foot! Did I hear right? I
think to myself. What's that? I have to say. Mom always threatens me, because I always tease her about her smelly feet! I can't believe that I'm
hearing this, I really can't. I'm turned on and they both have no clue. Dianne points her very pretty foot at her son, and tells him he's been
warned. She now laughs because I'm just gauking at her. Bruce trying to be a tough guy and a show off in front of his mom, tells her to get out of his
room, and stop being such a mom!!! Wrong thing to say to a young 41 year old woman infront of a friend. Bruce and I were both on the floor durring this
discussion, so he was in a bad position. Dianne ran at him and easily pinned his chest under her bare foot, and stood over him. Well this mom is going to teach
you some respect. She begins tickling his bare chest under her wiggling toes and he being very ticklish he is dying of laughter, and she's not stopping.
I'm right there, and I can smell her feet as they're only about a foot away. They smell like sardines, a oily and fishy smell. Your problem is only
beginning young man, she says to her son. He rolls into a ball trying to cover up, but her smelly and oily foot is way to fast for him. My moment now comes,
with her words, here comes the foot! She raises her right bare foot and right in front of me steps on her defenseless son's face. Don't raise your
hands or touch my foot, or your father will deal with you and your mouth! With that simple threat, he just laid there still, only trying to move his face away
with his hands at his sides. She slid her foot up and down and side to side on his face for the next 20 minutes. I sat there and watched her make him smell her
gorgeous stinky feet! Poor Bruce, lucky me.

^^^ Great stories guys! Royal, you should have commented about her feet and see if you got the same treatment in return!!

This is my next story about friend's mothers, and is about a woman called Irene. Irene was the complete opposite of Tina - short, squat, frumpy, slightly
pug-faced...not a looker, by any means! However, a childhood lust for feet, and my confidence having been bolstered by my experiences with Tina, made me want
to play with Irene's feet as well.

Now, as I've said, she wasn't much of a looker, but was always quite easy (eventually!) to dupe into taking her shoes off. She'd normally wear
American tan tights, sometimes white tights, and on the odd occassion, sometimes sheer black tights. I'd been visiting this friend since I was about 13,
and it took about two or three years to see her feet as she was always in shoes or slippers. One day, she came in from working a late shift, and I was at her
front room table doing an essay. My friend was two years older than me, and had helped me out a bit. He was in his bedroom on his computer, and so I was alone
in the front room with Irene. She walked in and said hello, and I explained why I was there. She was fine with this, and flopped down onto the setee. I
wondered if I'd get to see her feet, and kept looking from the corner of my eye to see any activity. She was in open toe sandals and tan tights, and I
eventually saw her slowly begin to loosen the strap on her shoes. Maybe she saw me looking, but she stopped halfway, and just had her feet resting outside her
shoes, part in and out. I was desperate for her to get them off, which after about ten minutes, she did. After my success with Tina, I realised I had the
chance to do the same thing with Irene, and set about thinking of ways to do so.

At the time, I was just coming off a successful spree of asking teachers at school to remove their heels and 'measure' them for a 'science
experiment' (yeah right!). I planned on doing the same thing with Irene, and so if my friend wasn't around I'd ask her how tall she was, and get
her to take her shoes off to show me. She'd always oblige, no questions asked! Once her slippers came off, I'd bend down and pretend to be measuring
her, accidentally touching the tops or outline of her stocking feet! Other times I'd insist she put her feet up, as she was always doing housework of some
sort and never relaxed. I'd get her to sit down, pull her feet up onto the sofa and then take off her slippers to get her comfy.

I eventually mustered up the courage to go from looking at her feet to playing with her feet. The feet up and slippers off had become a bit of a regular thing
if my friend wasn't there (he'd be having driving lessons, maybe), but on this particular occassion he was in the room too. He knew I'd get her to
sit down and relax, but maybe not about the shoe removal (I don't know if she told him or not, but he never mentioned it). Anyway, I had her sat down, and
plonked her feet up on the coffee table, pulling both slippers from her feet simultaneously.

Out of nowhere, boosted by teenage hormones and curiosity, I asked her if she wanted her feet massaged. I regretted saying it slightly, as it was an odd thing
to ask out the blue, and wondered what her response would be. She looked a bit bemused, laughed a bit, and said 'Yeah, if you like', but didn't
seem bothered one way or the other. I asked my mate if it was alright, he was fine with it and so off I went, trying to remain as calm and natural voiced as
possible. I pulled a chair up to sit opposite her, pulled her feet onto my lap and began gently massaging her tan stocking soles, tweaking her toes caressing
her insteps, asking her how it felt. I didn't see a change in her mood i.e. more relaxed, but she seemed quite taken by it, and went a bit quiet as I
continued. I only did it for about ten minutes or so, and stopped before I pushed my luck too far. Even though she wasn't a looker, my 15 year old heart
was beating away, as to be massaging the feet of a friend's mother seemed so....exciting, somehow wrong, but that was what made it so cool. I was lost in
the moment, and thought about it all the way home. I wondered if I'd get another chance, and thankfully I did a few months later.

My friend recently passed his driving test, and invited me over one Sunday. I went there, only to find that he really wanted me there to help wash his new car,
which I was less then impressed about. He lived in a small block of flats, which meant we had to keep going upstairs to get refills of water. We took it in
turns, and while I was getting the bucket filled up I began talking to his mother, who was sitting on her bed reading a book. Her bedroom was down the hall,
but was directly opposite the front door. I went into talk to her while the bucket filled up, and noticed that for the first time since I'd known her she
was wearing black tights. Now, this was too good an opportunity to resist. I began talking to her, and as we talked, I slowly began changing the topic to her
shoes, which were laid out neatly around her bedroom.

As we were talking, I said she had lots of shoes, but no trainers, and so asked if she'd like to try on mine. She agreed, slipped off her slippers (they
almost just dropped off her feet) and put them on. We had a bit of a chat, I went to stop the bucket from overflowing and then went to get my trainers back
from her. Irene placed her feet in my lap, and I slowly unlaced each trainer, and slid them off her feet, savouring the moment. As each foot became exposed I
gave each one a a little tickle from toe to heel, but she didn't flinch, smile or laugh as she wasn't ticklish. I expressed disappointment with this,
but wasn't to be deterred.

'You're not ticklish?!?! Oh, that's not fair....! At least you don't mind having your feet massaged, eh? Shall I give you a foot massage
instead, seeing as how you're not ticklish?'

She laughed, and happily placed her black stocking feet in my lap. I gently tickled and massaged her feet for about ten minutes, which Irene willingly let me
do. I'd play with her toes, move down to her heels and insteps, thumbs and fingers rubbing against the soft material of her tights. Irene made no effort to
stop me or get away, so I like to think she was enjoying it, probably not as much as me, but enjoying it nonetheless! As I massaged and caressed each foot, I
was asking her if it tickled, asking her if she was enjoying it, to which the answers were 'no' and 'yes'. I then switched from massaging to a
soft tickling, trying to get a reaction. There still wasn't so much as a squirm, so to try and tickle I started ticklng harder but to no avail. At that
point, I was interrupted by the telephone ringing.

Here comes the best part!

Irene swung her legs from my lap to the floor, and padded out to the hall in stocking feet to answer the phone. I had expected her to put her slippers back on,
so this was a pleasant turn of events! She was on the phone for about five minutes or so, then hung up. I was expecting her to shoo me out the room, but
without saying anything else she came back into the bedroom, sat on the bed and placed her feet back on my lap! I didn't say anything, but returned to
work, fingers working over each spot of her foot, looking for reactions of ticklishness or relaxation in her face. I continued switching between massaging and
tickling her feet, sometimes massaging one and tickling the other! I eventually (by accident) found one little ticklish spot on her feet, just at the base of
the ball and top of the instep! She flinched and laughed when I found it, and pulled away, saying it tickled!

This was fine with me, and so I promised not to do it again, and carried on massaging her feet. I then took a chance and sniffed her foot from toes to heel,
and said that she had smelly feet, even though she didn't. She took offence to this, protesting that her feet didn't smell, that her tights were clean
on and that she'd just had a bath ect etc. She said this quite loudly as well, and so as to not draw any attention to things it seemed like a good point to
end on. I apologised and let her go, and realised that I must have played with her feet for about 25 minutes.

Amazingly, throughout all this time, my friend stayed downstairs washing the car.....!

Way back when I was stationed at Fort Bragg I met and dated this local girl named Tish. I guess we had been going together a couple months when I fessed up
about my love of feet. Being the wonderful gal that she was, just out of curiosity, she asked for a demonstration. Well guys and gals, she was enthralled to
say the least. From that day forth, at every oppertunity, she had her toes in my mouth.

One weekend I had a three day pass and she invited me to stay at her house with her and her mon Syd [short for Sydney] as her father and brother had gone
hunting for the weekend.

On Friday afternoon as Tish and I were watching the tube she had her lovely feet in my lap being caressed and rubbed as her mom came into the room to join us.
Ms W [that's what I called her] took a long look and said she was envious of Tish having her feet massaged. That gal told her mom to sit on the other side
of me and join in. Well peeps, I was totally gaberflasted [my word] not to mention about 40 shades of red in the face.

As I was taking care of four perfect size 6s Tish informed me that she had no secrets from her mom and had told her everything. At this point I stood up and
took two cusions and placed them on the coffee table ant had the ladies put thier feet on them as it would be more comfortable for them and easier for me to
massage them.

15 or 20 minutes into the massaging Tish, right out of the blue, said "Lover, show my mom what it's like to have her toes sucked". That did it,
Slurpity, slurp,slurp, slurp. I went after those toes like a baby goes for nipples.

After devouring Ms.Ws' feet ,licked her soles, insteps, ankles, between her toes and even nibbled on her heels, I heard Ms W whisper to Tish that she was
hotter than a three dollar pistol and had to go upstairs and take care of her needs. When she stood up I noticed her short shorts were saturated.

"Damn boy, you sure got mom worked up. Good job. Now if you have any tongue left you can do the same for me and I'll take care of the urges right
here".

Here's another one, involving my best friend's mother. I've also since remembered a couple of other stories to add on, so I'll do that later.

It was Christmas day 1997, I was 22 years old and it was somewhat of a tradition to visit my best friend on Christmas day. I got there in the early evening,
fully prepared for a night of laughter, drinking and fun. My best friend's mother, Helen, is an attractive lady who I think looks a bit like British
actress Amanda Redman (albeit a brunette version). I've always got on well with his family, but very rarely got to see Helen's feet. She's quite
tall, normal sized and quite funny. As I say she's quite attractive (I've told my friend this, much to his despair!), and I think she enjoys all the
'young men' slightly fancying her. Getting hold of her feet, so to speak, was never really that big a deal, but I'd decided if the chance came,
I'd grab it.

The evening was going well, drink and conversation both in full flow. Helen was wearing chunky maroon slippers (closed toe), tan tights, a tweedy brown skirt
and pale brown jumper. Her slippers remained firmly on her feet, although I was able to look at heel and instep when she had the odd dangle. It wasn't the
end of the world, by any means, as I was having fun regardless. However, a few hours later and during a game of charades it was Helen's turn to perform.
She stood in the centre of the room to perform her mime, and realised that she was the centre of attention. I was talking to someone else at the time, and was
sat on the opposite side of the room. As she began to perform her mime, I heard Helen say 'I don't feel very sexy up here, these slippers aren't
very sexy!' and with one swish of each leg kicked her slippers off. For good affect she then slid them into a corner, and stood there in tan stocking feet.
My attention was now fully on her!!

She went through the motions of the mime, and I went to grab a drink, purely on the basis of swapping seats to see her legs and feet from behind. She remained
quite flat-footed throughout, but once the mime was over she sat down and didn't put her slippers back on. I seem to recall that she remained like that for
the rest of the night. As the night wore on (it was a VERY long night!!) she eventually flumped onto the sofa, and swung her feet up onto the armrest. I had a
hint of stocking sole from my vantage point, but wanted more. I walked past where she sat and gave both soles a quick tickle, which didn't go down too
well! Helen grimaced slightly, and didn't seem overly impressed. I got the impression that she wasn't ticklish, but got annoyed at someone tickling her
feet.

Later on in the night (by now the wee small hours of the next day), I was sitting next to a still shoeless Helen talking about this and that. I can't
recall how it happened, but I eventually wound up giving her a foot massage. I think I may have just offered, being in close proximity with her, and she
accepted (alcohol and a Christmas atmosphere can have a great affect on people! ). I was chatting away to her as I did it, trying to remain as calm as possible. She's got quite big feet (just more to touch, right!!?), and I
explored every inch, flexing her toes back and forth and working my thumbs along her insteps and caressing the heels and ball of each foot. There was no odour
or anything of note about her feet, not much to wiggling or flexing, so I just continued to work the old Smash magic. She seemed to enjoy it, and I could feel
her relaxing more, despite it drawing some funny looks from other people in the room.

The whole thing lasted about ten minutes or so, for as usual I didn't want to push my luck (her husband, my best friend's dad is a top guy, and we got
on very well; I'd not like to be on the wrong side of him, though!). Interestingly, Helen would often refer to this instance time and time again,
especially when introducing me to her friends...

'This is Smash, he massages my feet....' If only!

Saying that, I did get another go a few years later, for longer this time....but that's another story!

Here's a story I must confess to forgetting about! It only popped into my head last week, so while it's fresh I'll share it with you all. Three
pairs of feet in one night, my friends...two mothers, and one aunt...!

I was 23, and a university housemate of mine was having a surprise 21st birthday party. Myself and the rest of the house made the trek to her actual family
home for a party. I'd met her parents and friends before throughout the course of the year, and was on good terms with them. The part initially took place
in a local hall, before carrying on at my mate's house into the wee small hours. The front room was rammed, and the seats were on a first come, first
served basis. I found myself sat on the floor (purely by circumstances), and realised I was surrounded by lots of female legs and feet. Many of the women had
changed from heels to slippers for comfort, and I had to find a space on the floor rather than stand. I nestled in between two middle aged Irish women, one of
whom was wearing navy blue moccassin slippers, white/grey tights and a grey trouser suit. Her left leg was crossed over her right, and her foot dangled some
six inches from my face, exposing a smooth greyish white stocking instep.

I kept looking at it from the corner of my eye, her slipper jigging up and down, heel popping out until I could take no more. I'd been making conversation
with the woman here and there, had a few drinks inside of me so figured it wouldn't be that out of line to play with her foot... As she spoke I reached up and slowly dragged my finger along her instep. Her foot inclined slightly, but she carried on talking. I repeated the
motion, the material of her tights soft against my fingers, and her instep and heel also quite smooth. I'd say she was about a size six UK shoe. She
wasn't attractive as such, but was quite tall, brown bobbed hair and brown eyes. She let me carry on for a while as my fingers found her stocking sole. I
began to really tickle her foot, and she began laughing and squirming, her foot wiggling and flexing. She was trying to maintain her conversation, but kept
punctuating it with things like 'There's someone here who likes tickling feet!'. I carried on for about twenty seconds more until she regained her
composure, looked at me and said 'There's people looking, you should stop now...', which I did. Don't want to draw attention to myself now, do
I? I later found out that this was my mate's aunt, and as some of
you know, aunts' feet are my speciality...!

I'm out of time now, guys, but will finish this off later. Two more pairs of feet to go!

An hour or three and many beers after I'd tickled my friend's aunt's feet, I was standing in the hallway making conversation when a fairly drunk
woman came up to me and rubbed her hands all over my chest. I think her hands were sticky (knowing my luck, so was my shirt!), but I was intrigued as to who
she was as she was quite an attractive lady. Quite short, pleasantly plump, late 30s to early 40s I'd say, long brown hair and brown eyes, and was my
friend's friend's mother. She was wearing a long white dress and white tights, shoes already gone. She went to sit in the front room, and began talking
and playing with the family dog. The perfect excuse to take things further...at this point, I wasn't interested in her feet, but in seeing how far I could
get!

I sat on the floor in front of her, pretending to take an interest in the dog but also talking to her, staring into her eyes intently at taking quick glances
at her feet. As I was stroking the dog I said something like 'the dog's getting all the attention, you deserve some as well' which with hindsight
implied I thought she was a dog! Regardless, I picked up one foot off the floor (UK size 6?), and began to gently massage and knead it. She didn't look
overly comfortable, but seemed to enjoy the massage as her eyes were wide and mouth soft and pouty. I gave little tickles along the soles of her feet which
made her smile and squeal, but focused mainly on the massage. I went for the other foot, when I became aware of another friend asking me to join him on the
sofa. I ignored him, and continued with the massages and tickles.

His voice became more urgent and shouty, until I got fed up and asked him what he wanted. My initial thought was that he was jealous, and I was quite short
with him when asking him what he was up to, until he responded 'If her husband sees you, he'll kill you....'

Oh.

I very sheepishly then sat back in the chair, desperately trying to blend into the scenery when not two minutes later the husband walked in. He didn't look
in my direction, thankfully; if anything, he seemed more pissed off that his wife was drunk. I only saw the back of him, but he looked like he could hurt
people... . They both left, and I let out a sigh of relief. I went
into the kitchen to get a drink, and saw the mother of my friend whose birthday it was washing glasses at the sink. A short, blond Irish woman (think a much
younger version of the mother from Everyone Loves Raymond), she was beavering away, and seemed quite sober. We made small talk, and she mentioned her feet were
killing her. I looked down, and underneath her long black dress I saw that she had kicked off her shoes and was in black stocking feet....

My friend's mother said her feet were sore, and I realised that she was shoeless. She'd been wearing standard black heels, which were now discarded as
she stood at the sink in sheer black stocking feet. Well, we couldn't have her with sore feet now, could we? I jokingly admonisher her for washing up when
there was a party going on, and told her I had just the cure. I pulled two chairs over (now, bear in mind that I'd only met this woman once or twice
previously!), made her sit down and sat opposite her. I then told her to place her feet in my lap, as I was going to massager her feet for her (alcohol plays a
great part sometimes...!) She did so quite willingly, and I ran my fingers over her stocking soles, kneading and caressing here and there, flexing her toes
back and forth. She had quite small feet, about a UK size four I'd say, and we made general conversation as her feet received a going over. I may have
given her little tickles here and there, I honestly can't remember. The whole thing lasted about ten minutes, and was apparently caught on film!!
Thankfully, the evidence was recorded over before it could be shown....phew!

What I do recall, however, was that later on in proceedings I was sat next to her on the sofa, along with another housemate. She made reference to the foot
massage, and my housemate looked at me in disbelief. I shrugged it off, saying I was offering a helping hand! My friend's mum had her feet scooped up on the sofa next to her, and I gave
her a little tickle. She squirmed a bit, and I then paid attention to the toe band on her tights. It was slightly crooked, and so I discreetly manouvered it so
that it covered her toes properly. She wiggled her toes and smiled at me, so I quietly asked if the foot massage and tickles were okay. She nodded, and said
that she would 'often take her shoes off, stretch her legs out and ask her husband to tickle her feet...!' WOW!!!

Interestingly, her daughter once said that when she was younger she could only sleep if she had her feet tickled beforehand...it must be genetic!

That whole night was the subject of many, MANY memories I had...especially when I was alone.

Sorry for the delay, guys, here is my final story involving a friend's mother. This features Helen, my best friend's mother and the woman I
mentioned a few stories down.

It was my best friend's wedding day, and everybody was dressed up smartly in their best attire. I was the best man, and so was on call throughout the
day to ensure that everything ran smoothly. I arrived at my friend's house in my morning suit, to find that everybody else was still getting ready. I
busied myself helping tidy up as everybody went to get changed, and wondered what outfit Helen would wear. You know how women always want to look good at
weddings, eh? She came downstairs wearing narrow black suede heels, soft white tights, a black skirt and purple satin top, plus wedding hat. I had imagined her
to be in open toe heels and bare legged, so this was a pleasant surprise for my stocking feet loving intentions. After all, she couldn't stay in the heels
all day, could she...?

The wedding came and went, as did the speeches and the food/drink. Time went merrily on, and I'd not seen much of Helen throughout the night. Eventually
the guests began to leave, my best friend and his new wife having departed for the honey moon. I was wandering around the house, and settled into an upstairs
room (the house has about three levels, and people were dotted all over the place) where there seemed to be a bit of activity. Helen was there, and I noticed
she was still in her heels. I sat down to chat to her (pure intentions, honest), and she eventually did the 'This is Smash, he massages my feet' bit to
other people in the room (including my father, who looked bemused to say the least!). At that point, some chaos involving a family member occurred downstairs,
and people went to sort it out. I was in the room when Helen returned, and as there were no chairs available she sat on the floor, legs tucked in at the side.
Her feet were obscured, so it wasn't until she stood up again that I noticed her shoes had been discarded. She wiggled her toes a bit, and then made
another remark about the foot massages. I smiled, and after a brief pause, alcohol and hormones took over. Trying to remain calm, I looked at her and asked if
she'd like her feet massaged. She smiled and said yes, sat in a newly vacated chair opposite me and placed her white stocking feet in my lap...

I went to work massaging her toes and insteps, very much aware of everyone else in the room but my mind was focused intently on pleasuring Helen's feet.
Her feet are maybe a size six, and her tights made them incredibly soft. Maybe she'd had a pedicure for the wedding. Helen visibly sagged in the chair as I
caressed her heels and soles, making conversation with people as I went to work. I was lost in 'the zone', her feet were all that mattered. As I
massaged, I got a sudden urge to tickle Helen's feet as well. I wasn't sure if she was ticklish, but it was worth a shot. From a soft massage I went
discreetly to tickling, holding Helen's feet by the toes of her tights so she couldn't get away! She laughed and squirmed, she WAS ticklish!! She asked
me to stop through laughter, but never took her feet away! Once I'd stopped after a minute or so, she then asked me to carry on with the massage, which I
was happy to do. A few more minutes of massaging and I'd go back to tickling, sometimes gently, sometimes relentless, but it felt so good to have this
gorgeous, feisty woman under my control! This lasted for another ten minutes before I thought it best to quit while I was ahead. Helen thanked me, and I also
thanked her. I'm sure I could have seen her smiling when I thanked her...

That was about five years ago, and as far as I know, my best friend isn't aware of it. It won't affect the friendship, but I hope that it remains only
between myself and Helen. And the others in the room!

When I was in high school, I hung out at my friend's house a lot. Stayed the night many times. And his mom had the most gorgeous feet. Tanned, always with
red toenail polish, and well taken care of. I got as many glances as I could whenever I was there. But, never doing more than look. A few years of that later,
I was home for the summer from college. A few friends and I were at this friend's house, watching movies. I went back to the bathroom, which is a door down
from his parents bedroom. I saw it was open just a crack. So, I peeked in. She was fast asleep, with her foot sticking out of the covers. Now, she was a heavy
sleeper. Her husband was a very loud snorer, so I guess she adjusted. Husband worked overnight..so, he was not there. I had gone into the room before, while
she slept. But, I just jacked off while looking at her foot that was dangling off the bed.
Not sure what inspired me to get this risky with all my friends there, but I got on my knees and crawled over to the bed. I reached out and stroked her foot.
God it felt good. And she didn't move. I leaned in and kissed it. Still no movement. My dick was busting my zipper to get out. But, I needed to get back.
So, I did. But, I laid out a story like I ate some bad food, and had to keep going back to the bathroom.
Next time back..I crawled over..and pulled out my dick. I was so excited, but so nervous..I wasn't as hard as I should be. So, I had trouble reaching her
foot. After stretching my body to finally touch my dick on the top of her sexy foot..it took about a second for my dick to become rock hard. The sensation that
went through me was unreal. I rubbed it back and forth over and over for a couple minutes. It felt so good..I needed to stop. I went back to the friends. Then
15 or 20 minutes later, I was humping my friend's mom's foot again. I did this trip a few more times. The last time, I finally decided I was going to
cum. It didn't take long. When I was ready..I pulled off, and shot it on the side of her bed. I had never felt that good. And she hadn't moved at all.
I knew I would be able to pull this off again.
Over the summer, I got to play with those feet a few more times. Even going so far as pull the bed sheet off because it was wrapped around her foot. She caught
me once crawling on the floor. I played it off like I was sleep walking. She bought it. She busted me another time..right after I was trying to get to her
feet, but couldn't. She flipped on the light, and I acted like I was sleep walking again. And just left. It was obvious I wasn't..but, not another word
was said about it. I didn't see her too much after that. Mostly just because I stayed in the city I was going to school in. But, when I did..she was super
friendly.
Ahh..the good ole days. Not only did I get to fuck her feet..I got a few glances of her getting dressed, and heard her getting fucked by her husband one night.
Not bad!
All of this is true..happened 20 years ago